To be where you are

To be where you are, which could be:

On top of a mountain. The air is thinner and you are taller, standing on rocks, legs like jelly from the climb, flask of coffee, stillness, silence.

Under the sea, heavy weight on top of you, lungs full of water, wish you had gills, look a fish in the eye, think, how did I get here? Take me home, take me home.

In the desert, looking at water when you close your eyes, shimmering ground melting into sky, into sun, into everything.

At work, tapping your pen on your desk, staring at spreadsheets, thinking, Friday, Friday.

At home, on the sofa, flicking through the local news, it says: youth steals from his own mother to pay for drugs, girl knocked over by car on dangerous junction, residents call for cleaner streets, community garden visited by local celebrity, funfair at the park, priest finds lost sheep in residential area, life goes on, life goes on.

You are probably at home, you might be sitting right where I picture you, I wonder what you are thinking, I wonder if you wonder these things about me.

I could get there, if I wasn't so far away, if we were still together, ask an ordinary question, a question like, Would you like a cup of tea? and we would drink it, quietly, taking our time, like we used to. And everything would be okay.